Too Little, Too Late
by Diviant
Summary: Harm 'lets go' just as Mac unexpectedly learns of his six-month Quals. An in-between piece set after Lifeline but just before Adrift 1.


All rights in this FanFic reserved to CBS and Donald P. Bellisario Productions, as well as the cast and crew of JAG. No infringement is intentioned. They don't belong to me, though I wish they did! "Desperado" is copyright Don Henley and Glen Frey of the Eagles. "This Woman's Work" is copyright of Kate Bush. Thanks to the JagNik forum members for helping me to find the seventh season promo song! (Note: this takes place between "Lifeline" and "Adrift 1".)   
  
Compliments and constructive criticisms are welcomed. Enjoy!  
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"Too Little, Too Late" by Lisa Parulis   
  
1240   
May 20th  
JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, Virginia   
  
  
  
Desperado...   
  
Oh, you ain't gettin' no younger.   
Your pain and your hunger are drivin' you home.  
Freedom, oh freedom,  
That's just some people been talkin'.  
Your prison is walking through this world all alone.   
  
Your feet get cold in the summertime.  
The sky won't snow, and the sun won't shine.  
It's hard to tell the nighttime from the day.  
You're losin' all your highs and lows,  
Ain't it funny how the feelin' goes away?   
  
Away...   
  
Desperado...   
  
You've got to come to your senses.  
Come down from your fence, and open the gate.  
It may be rainin', but there's a rainbow above you.  
You better let somebody love you...  
Let somebody love you...  
You better let somebody love you...   
  
Before it's too late.......   
  
  
The song must've been on the radio for what seemed like the millionth time just that afternoon. He had to laugh at the bittersweet irony of it all, though...he was the one who had practically fallen upon hand and knee begging the Admiral to allow him to have the portable radio in his office during the lunch hour, to kill the silence, and here he was, dreading the very song it was playing and the truth it intoned within its solemn melody.   
  
He never really thought of himself as the cowboy type, hoofing his way through America's prairie lands without a care in the world, although an arrogant Naval aviator, hot-dogging his way through not-so-friendly skies made for an interesting comparison. Still...he seemed be hanging on every word and every note, as if the tune was the story of his life. With a melancholy sigh, he rose from his chair and trudged over to the radio, which sat, minding its own business, on top of his filing cabinet and quickly clicked it off, not wanting to take the risk that the song might be played yet again, making his heart ache more than it already had been.   
  
The lunch hour was already more than half over, but food was the last thing on his mind, not to mention the Ramirez deposition that he had been detailing--well, more or less ignoring--for the better part of the morning...which was due on the Admiral's desk in less than twenty minutes. With a defeated sigh, he turned back to his desk and retrieved the many forms he had yet to complete, tossed them into his briefcase, and decided to take his troubles outside for some fresh air.   
  
...Another ten minutes had passed and still, he hadn't yet touched the deposition. Instead, he was sitting on one of the benches outside the JAG offices, lost in thoughts of the beautiful Jarhead that was about to slip right out of his grasp. It wasn't as though he had denied his feelings, out there on the Admiral's porch, on that devastating night less than a week ago. Rather, he thought he'd been pretty honest about what he felt for Mac...as honest as someone like him was capable of being. It might not have been in so many words, but after five years of hedging and dodging, and one horrid night on a ferry in Sydney Harbor, Harmon Rabb Jr. was practically wearing his heart on his sleeve.   
  
But for her, not even that was enough...   
  
She wanted to hear, in no uncertain terms, exactly how he felt. That was the entire point of the conversation, was it not? To, once and for all, hash out their complicated relationship and come to some kind of understanding? To put the final nail in the coffin that was Harm and Mac?   
  
To say one last goodbye...?   
  
How like a fool he had felt after that...to have placated her with naught but a barrage of half-truths and regrets. He remembered how her face looked, her eyes wide, as he revealed the truth in a years-old statement that Mic made during her court-martial...   
  
"He was right."   
  
"About me being guilty?"   
  
"No. About some people being in love with you."  
  
She barely managed to suppress her shock at that statement... and he had all but admitted his love for her. He had tried so diligently to let the truth be known, but as much as every fiber of his being wanted to shout from the rooftops his undying love for the Marine, some small part of him still could not let go of whatever walls he was hiding behind or dishonor Mac by, as he often reminded her, 'grazing in another man's pasture.'   
  
"What did you just say?"   
  
"That Brumby was right."   
  
"About some people being in love with me?"   
  
"Yeah."   
  
His every waking moment since that night, and even before then, had been consumed by these thoughts and unanswered questions. He honestly wasn't sure that he would've denied her the truth at that precious moment...and it if hadn't been for Tiner's sick sense of timing, effectively killing the moment and causing Harm to completely downshift from that line of conversation altogether...well...that night might've ended very differently….   
  
Yet only now, after all was said and done, and the hourglass had finally run dry on his last chance to let go, was he able to grasp the bitter truth behind her vivid insight…   
  
"When you look at me that way, what do you see?"   
  
"I see a desirable woman."  
  
"And I see a man who's so afraid of losing control."   
  
Would that he could lose himself in his desire for her…a need and a want that ached within every fiber of his being and to the core of his very soul. Still, in his world, if you lost control, you died. It was just that simple…and yet, he would gladly die a thousand deaths to hold her in his arms for one single moment.   
  
The idea of a slow and painful death at the hands of his beloved Jarhead was not far from his mind either, for aside from the Ramirez deposition, which was all but forgotten, he also had to submit a personal form…for which the Admiral would sign off on Harm's request to travel to the Patrick Henry, so that he would be able to complete his six-month Carrier Qualifications. Harm had known about the Quals for some time, but it wasn't until nearly a week ago that he actually received the deployment schedule…and realized that the exercises were taking place mere days before Mac was to walk down the isle and out of his life. Truth be told, there was no telling what the conditions might be like once he arrived on the Patrick Henry. It would be impossible for him to make the rehearsal dinner, and depending on the flight schedules and other circumstances, he couldn't even guarantee that he'd make it to the wedding.   
  
And that was exactly why he'd "conveniently" avoided broaching the subject with Mac in conversation. He knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, what her reaction would be. She'd never forgive him if he wasn't there. This was the most important day in her life, and more than anything else, she'd wanted her best friend to share it with her. His return to flying two years ago had damaged their friendship--their bond--almost beyond repair, and they had recently just begun to get a great deal of that closeness back, despite her acceptance of Mic's ring, his relationship with Renee, and all of the confused emotions and feelings in-between. If he did this to her now…there was no doubt…whatever they had left would be destroyed for good. Still, flying was a part of him--it was in his blood--and as much as it killed her to let him go before, she never denied him that. He just wished he'd expressed how much it killed him to leave her behind.   
  
Would she let him go again?   
  
Would he allow himself to go? Flying had always been the perfect escape for him, just as it had been for his father…to get away from all of his troubles and headaches. Honestly, leaving for his Quals seemed like the best opportunity he'd have at throwing himself into his work and trying to forget about the ache in his heart. Although, he very much doubted that pain would ever leave him…neither that nor the vision of her sweet face. The idea of escape also brought another memory to the fore…of a pointed remark on the Admiral's porch….   
  
"That's your MO…running away."   
  
"I wasn't running away. I didn't wanna jeopardize our friendship. Did you?"   
  
…And a realization that hit too close to home….   
  
"Back there in Sydney Harbor, I would've said, 'yeah, let's risk it.' "   
  
"Well, you wouldn't be having your engagement party right now, then."   
  
"Maybe I would."   
  
Before he could torture himself anymore than he already had been, Lieutenant Bud Roberts strolled down the front steps of the building and up to the awning where Harm was sitting, lost in thought. He lightly tapped the Commander on the shoulder, effectively startling Harm out of his reverie.   
  
"Excuse me, Sir. I…I don't mean to disturb you, but…" he trailed off, a bit worried that he'd   
interrupted at an inopportune time.   
  
"Hmm…? Oh, Bud…" he turned around and gave the Lieutenant a weary smile, "…spit it out, sailor. It's alright," he assured him with a friendly pat on the shoulder.   
  
"Well…" the tension visibly leaving him, "…the Admiral wanted me to find you. He was expecting the Ramirez deposition at the end of the lunch hour, and…it's already well after a quarter past, Sir," he leaned in to whisper, afraid the wrong person might hear, "and the last thing anyone needs to do is turn his mood any blacker than it already is at the moment," he ended, standing back up straight.   
  
Harm visibly paled for a moment, and his gaze instantly traveled to his watch. It read 13:25.   
  
"Damn!" he spat, under his breath, as he quickly got up off the awning and collected his belongings. He gave Bud an appreciative pat on the back, calling out, "thanks Bud! I owe you one!" as he high-tailed it back into the building.   
  
Within moments, he was at the door to Admiral Chegwidden's office, forcing back his breathlessness and steeling himself for the chewing out he knew was sure to come. He gave the door a slight rap and awaited the Admiral's response.   
  
"Enter," he said stiffly, the irritation evident in his tone.   
  
Rabb entered and immediately stood at attention.   
  
"Commander Rabb reporting as requested, Sir. My apologies for the tardiness of the Ramirez deposition. I didn't even realize it was past the lunch hour, Sir," he stated with sincerity, hoping he wouldn't get raked over the coals too badly. Still, at this point, he'd much rather prefer the pain of getting his six kicked in by the Admiral than the ache caused by a certain headstrong Marine.   
  
"At ease Commander," he started off, but his anger at the ex-aviator was etched all over the former SEAL's face, "and don't bother to placate me with any more excuses. I've already given you an extension on that deposition, and it was supposed to be handed in last week!" he charged on, his voice growing louder with every syllable.   
  
When he noticed that some of the office personnel were watching the commotion, he rose from his chair and walked across the room, shutting the door and drawing the blinds without a second thought.   
  
He turned back to Rabb and continued, "now I don't know what the hell has been going on with you these last couple of weeks, but I better not be seeing it continue because then, Commander, I may be forced to something that I really do not want to do!" he spat, through gritted teeth. Fortunately, he had enough sense to lower his voice somewhat, so as to not attract any further attention.   
  
Harm gulped. Loudly.   
  
"Sir…I wish I could explain…" he began to trail off, for some reason his gaze making an exacting study of his shoes and the floor, "but the fact of the matter is…well…" then he suddenly bucked up, knowing that the Admiral no longer cared for hearing excuses at this point, not any more than he cared to give them, "…there's no excuse sir. Absolutely none. I've had my mind in other places, and I swear it will not happen again. If I may have another hour, I will have that deposition ready for you…and that's a promise," he stated with complete certainty.   
  
The Admiral sighed and laid a reassuring hand on Harm's shoulder, replying, "I want to believe you, Commander…and because I know you've never gone back on a promise, I'm going to allow you that hour," he paused and locked eyes with the JAG officer, "but I better see some results. When you step into this office, the outside world does not exist, you get me Rabb? After you punch out for the day, that's when you get to revisit your personal life…" he trailed off and returned to his seat behind his desk.   
  
"Aye, aye Sir. You have my word," he gave the Admiral a salute and bent down to retrieve his briefcase when he suddenly remembered the deployment order he'd yet to have the Admiral sign off on.   
  
"Umm…Sir, I don't mean to disturb you further, but…there is, actually, something I needed you to take a look at, Admiral…" he trailed off as he feverishly located the document, retrieved it from his case and handed it to the Admiral.   
  
Chegwidden gave him a questioning look, but nonetheless, took the document and gave it a once-over. He sighed again, but this time it was in understanding, not anger.   
  
"Six-month Quals coming up again, already?" he let out a soft laugh and a smile. "Time flies when you have your mind on other things, I suppose…" he leaned back in his chair and scratched the back of his head, wearily.   
  
"Yes sir, it does…" Harm nodded, a hint of sadness in his eyes.   
  
"Something or…someone…?" he attempted, knowing full well how tense Harm and Mac's relationship had been since he'd returned from flying, and especially now that Mac's wedding day was right around the corner.   
  
Before Harm could answer, though, A.J. grabbed his pen and signed off on the order. When he got a better look at the dates of deployment, however, his eyes widened a bit with realization--he'd be gone right over Mac's wedding. Rabb had really gotten himself into it now. He wanted to be able to say something…anything to help ease the boy's troubled heart. He had come to think of Harm and Mac as his "surrogate" children, and he hated to see them in such dire straits.   
  
Unfortunately, he knew, no matter what advice he offered, that actions spoke louder than words. If the two of them didn't realize that soon enough, he was afraid they would never know peace.   
  
Slowly, he handed the document back to Harm and grumbled, "back to work then, Commander. Dismissed."   
  
Harm retrieved the document from the Admiral's desk and put it back into his briefcase, sighing mournfully as it locked with a click…a sound that seemed to shut his entire life away.   
  
"Yes sir."   
  
He stood at attention for a moment and then turned on his heel to leave. He was half way out the door when he heard the Admiral mutter so that only Harm could hear, "I hope you know what it is you're doing, son…"   
  
His voice trailed off quietly as Harm returned to his office, a feeling of utter defeat and despair washing over him. Interestingly enough, just as he'd ducked into his office, Mac rounded the corner by the elevators, seemingly heading towards hers. Although her relationship with Harm had been strained for the most part, especially with her wedding day drawing ever nearer, even she could tell that her flyboy obviously had a great deal on his mind. She watched sadly as he trudged back into his office, his slumped shoulders making him seem much shorter than all of his 6'4". He didn't seem to notice her eyes on him and this made her wonder…when did things turn so sour between them? They always knew where each other was…that was the strength of their bond…but now it seemed as though those cords were being severed with every passing day.   
  
She pondered walking over to his office and having a talk with him, but just as quickly decided against it. If Harm wanted to talk, he was almost always the one to come to you. So, she turned around and made her way over to her office, locking the door behind her and drawing the blinds as she slumped into her chair and let the tears flow for what seemed like the millionth time today.   
  
The sobs wracked her body ferociously as she buried her head in her hands. The events of the last few days made their way through her mind…her engagement party…the conversation with Harm on the Admiral's porch…the vivid dreams she'd been having concerning a century-old mutiny court marshal, the transcripts of which Harm had given her as a wedding gift.   
  
The wedding….   
  
It was less than seventy-two hours away. She should be an excited, blushing bride, enthusiastically counting the hours until the most important day of her life. Instead, all she wanted was to will this horrid debacle to an end wake up from her nightmare. Unfortunately, nothing was ever that simple…especially where Sarah Mackenzie was concerned. She remembered Harm saying something about her making situations too simple. Truthfully, though, her life had been one complication after another since the day she met an arrogant ex-aviator in a Rose Garden nearly six years ago.   
  
Six years…?   
  
Had time really flown by so quickly? You'd think it was Harm she'd be engaged to by now instead of Mic Brumby. Maybe if things had gone differently that night on Sydney Harbor…she would be. Maybe if they'd had a little more time together during the engagement party…   
  
"Damn him…" she muttered between sobs, careful to keep her voice low enough so as not to be heard. They had covered a great deal of ground that night, and she was almost sure that if they'd had just a few more moments alone, he would've finally crossed that bridge…   
  
As it was, he'd all but admitted his love for her in not so many words. And that kiss…no one, not even Mic, had ever been able to touch her like that. How she gathered up the strength to pull away from him, she'd never know. Though their lips met but fleetingly, the passion and desire searing within that moment was enough to set the Admiral's wooden porch ablaze. She desperately wanted more, and there was no doubt that he did, too…for the tortured yearning in her eyes was echoed a thousand times in his own. She had no doubt that if they'd been standing anywhere else…..   
  
But how could she be so tortured by her desire for one man when she was mere days from pledging herself to another? So engrossed in these thoughts was she that, when she lifted her hand to wipe the tears from her face, she accidentally swiped her engagement diamond across her cheek, earning her a slight scratch.   
  
"Dammit!" she spat under her breath. The tears were still falling as she rubbed the sting from her cheek. It was then that she noticed the very crux of her problems: her engagement ring. Before she realized what she was doing, the ring was torn from her finger and flung blindly into the corner of her office.   
  
Pray God you can cope…   
  
Her emotions were spinning out of control, and she felt as though her misery would never end. Finally, when the tears had dried enough for her to pull herself together, she rose from her chair and walked over to where the ring lay, nearly eclipsed in the shadows cast by the filing cabinet. For a moment, she could only stand there and stare down at the bauble, trying to find a reason…daring herself to reach down and pick it up.   
  
I'll stand outside  
This woman's work,  
This woman's world.   
  
She knew that marrying Mic Brumby was the wrong thing to do. She was about to enter into a lifetime commitment…and for all the wrong reasons. Still, all else considered, she couldn't deny that she did, in some way, love the man. Even if that love was learned. She wished, though, that she could honestly say she was in love with Mic…if only to spare him the indignity of marrying a woman whose heart so completely belonged to another man.   
  
Still, it wasn't as though Harm had been beating down her door and professing his love during all of this. Engagement party notwithstanding, he still hadn't allowed himself to let go…and the way things were looking, she wasn't sure he ever would. Wearily, she knelt down and retrieved the ring from its resting place and put it back on her finger. Gazing at the sparkling diamond for a moment, she knew right then that she had to marry Mic. It was the only way she could begin the process of moving on…but she knew the memory of Harm would never leave her…just as the ache would never leave her heart.   
  
I know you have a little life in you yet.  
I know you have a lot of strength left.   
  
Just as certain as she was of the fact that he would never let go for her, Sarah knew she had to let him go, no matter the pain it would cause her to do so. She rose from her spot, wiped the tears from her cheeks and marched right out of her office and over to Harm's, stopping only to give his door a light rap so as to not be rude.   
  
"Harm?" she whispered, to get his attention.   
  
"Hmm?" he mumbled, without looking up from his work.   
  
"Do you have a minute…to talk?" she asked, pleasantly. As she peeked her head in, she could see that he was deeply engrossed in paperwork, and she amended, "I…I mean, if you're not too busy?" Her tone held a hint of nervousness.   
  
Sarah Mackenzie was not one to unburden herself on others, and nor was she the type of person who looked for a friendly ear or shoulder to cry on. It was for this reason that Harm immediately perked up at her request and looked at her, eyes filled with concern.   
  
"Talk? Sure…need you even ask?" he ushered her inside, flashing his patented flyboy grin, and shut the door behind her, allowing her to make herself comfortable and open the lines of communication. As an afterthought, he also turned the blinds, to give them a bit more privacy, since he was sure that whatever she wanted to discuss had to be of some great importance.   
  
He leaned back against his desk and crossed his arms, replying, "so…what's on your mind, Mac?"   
  
Without realizing it, she began to absently fiddle with her hands, as thought she were wringing out some imaginary piece of Kleenex.   
  
"Well…umm…I suppose there's no beating around the bush with this, Harm…" she trailed off, looking him directly in the eyes this time. His gaze never wavered from her, and it only took him seconds to notice that her eyes were red and swollen, her cheeks still glistening from old tears.   
  
His demeanor immediately softened, and in the back of his mind, he already knew what was about to come.   
  
"Sarah?" he didn't realize he'd used her given name until it was already out of his mouth. By then, he knew he'd reached the point of no return. "You've been crying…what happened? If Brumby did something--" whatever threat he might've given was cut off by her hand going up to stop him short.   
  
"No…this has nothing to do with Mic. Well…peripherally, he is a part of this conversation…but this is more about you and I…" she began, pausing only briefly to stifle the tears she knew were sure to come, "…actually…this is entirely about you and I…" her voice caught just then, as a few stray tears started to fall from her eyes. He had almost never called her by her given name in all of the six years she had known him. It was then she knew that this was hurting him as much as it was killing her.   
  
I should be crying, but I just can't let it show…   
  
He was immediately at her side, his hand caressing her cheek and wiping the tears away. He wanted so very badly to ease her pain…to ease his own at the same time…but she'd already made the choice for both of them. All he could do now was be there for and support her as any best friend would.   
  
"I wish I could end this nightmare for both of us--" but she cut him off again. She wanted so badly to lose herself in his touch, but she couldn't allow herself to falter, or she'd never make it through the rest of the conversation.   
  
"No! I mean…we can't go on like this, Harm. You won't let go, and I can't change the decisions I've made, so it has got to end. All of this…" she gestured between the both of them, "…whatever it is… between us. If we don't move on, we're going to make each other's lives miserable…" the words tumbled forth, unabated.   
  
I should be hoping, but I can't stop thinking…   
  
At that very moment, he swore he could feel a huge concrete wall being erected between them…the last wall in a series of too many others. The last straw that would finally thrust them apart forever.   
  
She could sense him recoil at the shock of her revelation, and he stood up, leaning back against the desk. His eyes hung low and he looked as though someone had come along and deflated him like a popped balloon.   
  
"I thought we'd never lose each other…or at least that's the promise we made on the Admiral's porch...," he reminded her, fondly, though he could feel the first slight cracks rippling through his slowly breaking heart.   
  
"And it's a promise that I fully intend to keep, sailor...but only as your friend," she responded quickly, hoping he didn't misunderstand the intent of her revelation. "Harm...I value the bond we have, and I wouldn't give that up for anything Mic could offer," she assured him, though it wasn't making her task any less painful.  
  
"Bond?!" he spat, unable to stifle the hurt in his voice. "You know what? You've always told me how much you value family and friendship...but when someone comes along and tells you exactly what you want to hear or gives you everything you think you want...you let the rest of the world fall away like so many hot coals!" he charged on, not realizing how hurtful his words had become.   
  
She visibly shrunk back at his insinuation, disbelief that he could think or say such things etched in her tear filled eyes. For Harm, he had just about reached his breaking point. He honestly didn't think she would willingly walk away from what they meant to eachother...and somehow, some part of him, upon hearing her words, had been angered and frightened enough to throw him into overdrive, collapsing the last walls around his heart and willing him to fight for that which he loved.  
  
All the things I should have said, but I never said...  
  
In that same instant, before she could stop herself, the anger and resentment she'd hidden so well for so long spurred her into action, and she stood right up out of her chair and slapped Harm squarely and fiercely across the face. He didn't even have a chance to react, it all happened so swiftly. His eyes looked to her in utter shock and even a hint of sorrow, and his hand immediately went to his cheek as he rubbed the sting from his face  
  
"What the--" she refused to let him have the last word this time.  
  
"How dare you?! Do you think I'm some kind of cheap whore who attaches herself to the first man who will have her?! What right do you have to even try and make judgements about me? Before Mic even came along, I sat here and I waited...four years...FOUR YEARS!" she spat back, her voice rising steadily. She didn't care about attracting attention this time...right now, she just wanted to give Harmon Rabb, Jr. a piece of her mind.  
  
"When Annie tossed you away, I was there to pick you back up. When you nearly got yourself killed searching for you father in Beloika, I stood alongside you. When Palmer tried again and again to put you down and drive you to the brink of insanity, I risked my own life by staying with you, knowing full well he wouldn't have hesitated to kill us both! When you went back to flying..." her voice broke at that memory, the pain it still caused her when she thought of it, "...I...sobbed until I had no tears left to cry, but I still let you go because I knew that was something you needed to do. On that ferry in Sydney Harbor, despite how we treated eachother after you came back from the Patrick Henry, I opened my heart and my soul...gave myself to you. And...even after I'd accepted Mic's ring, I put myself and him through ten months of misery waiting for you to finally let go..." she stopped herself just then, chest heaving from the force of her words, tears falling feverishly, and turned from him, wrapping her arms around her chest, desperately trying to contain the sobs that were wracking her body.  
  
All the things we should have done, but we never did...  
  
  
He couldn't believe that she could say such things to him...to anyone. He wanted understand how she could be filled with such bitterness and hate. He wanted to take her into his arms and tell her he loved her...but instead, he stood back, knowing full well that if he even made a movement to touch or come near her, she could very well haul off and deck him...or worse. If he didn't know better, he would say she had been drinking. He had seen her drunk before...and she was meaner than an entire bar full of sailors.   
  
All the things that you needed from me.   
All the things that you wanted for me...   
  
"Sarah...I..." he trailed off, lowering his gaze in defeat and hurt. Harmon Rabb, Jr.--a menace in the courtroom and just as tenacious in the air--suddenly had no earthly idea what to do.  
  
He finally found his courage after a moment and spoke up, "I...I know what you've done for me all of these years. I have never once discounted or resented our friendship...and I can honestly tell you that, if not for you watching my six in a great many situations, I'd most likely not even be standing here right now," he paused for a moment to make his way over to where she was standing and cautiously placed his hands on her shoulders, ever so slightly. He immediately felt her stiffen at his touch and the knowledge that she could harbor such hatred for him tore him to shreds.  
  
"Please...don't turn away from me, Sarah..." he trailed off, fighting back his own tears as her stance softened and she slowly turned around to face him.   
  
He breathed a relieved sigh at her response. Finally, they were making some headway. He was half-expecting to hear Jiminy Cricket's voice in the back of his mind, whispering for him to just let go and tell her he loved her. Instead, there was only silence, reminding him that she was the one who had made the decision to marry Mic Brumby...and she was the one who had not waited until he was ready, as he had hasked her to do, so many times before. With that, his visage hardened a bit and took a step back from where she was standing.  
  
"You know what? Your're right. I have been a complete and total moron about all of this. I wouldn't give you what you wanted from me, and I took our friendship for granted. Mic Brumby made you happy. Why you would still want any part of me is anybody's guess!" his voice began to grow stronger as his tirade continued.   
  
All the things that I should've given but I didn't...  
  
"Even after I made you wait for me, and after you accepted Brumby's ring, you still contuned to pine away! Talk about being a glutton for punishment! Maybe you believe you deserve to be in that kind of relationship after everything else you've been through! But, you know what? You don't! The truth is, Sarah Mackenzie, that I don't deserve you!" He broke away from her then, and she shrunk back, turning away from him at such cruelty.  
  
They were both facing away from eachother now, Sarah sobbing and Harm clutching his hands so tightly into fists that his flesh was turning white. A moment later, though, his stance softened and he spoke again, this time his voice calm, hushed and...almost cold.   
  
"So...we probably should call it quits, then. You do have a wedding to prepare for, after all...but just remember that I wasn't the one who wanted us to get like this..." he trailed off, shoulders slumping as the reality of what was happening began to catch up with him full force.  
  
Oh, darling, make it go...  
Make it go away...  
  
She could hear the ache in his voice, the shattering of both their hearts. She realized, then, how much it truly killed him to say those hateful things to her...how much both of them were dying inside to have to let eachother go. With that, she turned towards him, his back still facign her, and walked up to where he stood, lightly touching his arm with a cautious hand.  
  
"Harm...I..." she choked out through the tears, "...we've got to stop dancing around the truth. Seven years is a long time to keep running, and neither of us can stand the hurt anymore. For once..." she paused for a moment, and taking the biggest chance of her life, she moved her hand from its place at his arm and wrapped it around his torso, placing her other one on his opposite shoulder and burying hre face into his back, "...once in your life, just tell me what you really want..."  
  
He stiffened for a moment as she wrapped her arms around him. He didn't anticipate her doing but neither would he dare to move from her grasp. He had dreamed about holding her in his arms, and he wasn't about to lose this moment if he could help it. He softened a bit and turned around, in such a way as to keep her arms firmly around his waist, and then put his arms around her, looking deeply into her soulful, chocolate brown eyes.  
  
"Dammit, Sarah..." he whispered, a bit sharply, his gaze travelling downward with fear, "...all I want...all I've ever wanted...is you..." he trailed off, the only sound left being the steadiness of their heartbeats.   
  
She could feel her knees going weak as he finally admitted to her what she'd been waiting almost seven years to hear. Still, she managed to keep her resolve and remained steady in his arms. She closed her eyes as the tears began to fall again, these more of joy than anything else, and let out the breath she'd been holding in since she'd asked him that fateful question.  
  
"Harm..." she wanted to tell him how much she wanted him, but was stopped as he placed a light finger to her lips.  
  
"Shhh..." he trailed off, with a loving smile. There was no turning back now. He had come to that insurmountable bridge and had finally found the courage and strength to cross it, finding her waiting for him at the other end. Without a second thought, he leaned forward just a little bit, and she complemented the gesture, closing that last bit of distance between them as their lips finally met in a sweet, tender kiss that made it seem like the world around them had simply ceased to exist.  
  
Give me these moments back...  
Give them back to me...  
Give me that little kiss...  
Give me your hand...  
  
Within moments, their desire began to intensify, and the kiss deepened, each exploring the other's warm recesses with their tongues, and hands began to wickedly trace their way to intimate places, eliciting soft moans of pleasure from them both. Too many years of pent up tension and emotion were now charging forth in a passion and intensity that was so strong, it could set the office ablaze.  
  
Oh, darling, make it go away...  
Just make it go away now.  
  
Without realizing what they were doing, the two of them had somehow worked their way over to his desk, she hungrily bumping up against it as though her old "desk test" fantasy were about to come true. It seemed as though she might be right since she could hear him pushing the clutter away, though his lips were still very much attached to hers. On instinct, she set one hand down to grab the side of the desk, in an effort to maintain her balance, and she could feel the cool smoothness of facsimile paper underneath her palm. As another low moan of pleasure escaped her lips, she began to rake her fingernails across the desk, trying not only to steady herself but to keep from crying out his name for the entire office to hear. As she was doing this, the paper began to crumple in her hand, though she didn't really notice, and she absently brought that arm up and sround Harm's neck as he leaned her over the desk.  
  
For some reason though, her eyes opened for a fraction of a second, and her gaze settled upon the paper that was crumpling in her grasp. She was about to drop it to the floor when her eyes settled on the last lines at the bottom:   
  
...PATRICK HENRY. QUALS SCHEDULED TO BEGIN AT 0800 THURSDAY,   
21ST MAY AND CONCLUDE SATURDAY, 23RD MAY. GOOD LUCK.  
  
She instantly stiffened in his embrace and tore herself away from him, literally pushing backwards. He almost fell over a chair, but fortunately was able to catch and right himself before falling on his six. He looked to her, his eyes filled with confusion.   
  
"Sarah...wha...?" he tried to ask, but she cut him off with a piecing glare full of daggers. He had never seen her so incensed. He thought maybe she was upset that they were moving too quickly, or that they'd get themselves into trouble doing this at JAG, but then his gaze fell to her hand, tightly clutching the crumpled piece of paper...and he knew.   
  
The deployment form.   
  
Suddenly, the once fiery atmosphere around them turned bitter cold. She righted herself, and without so much as a word, flattened the piece of paper out on the side of the desk. She could bring herself to say anything to him. There were no words to express what she was feeling at this very moment. If she had a weapon on her...no...she could never do that. She could feel more tears inching forward, but she steeled herself not to cry. She would not give him the satisfaction.  
  
He looked on as she held the paper in her hand...and he knew there was no going back. She was the love of his life, but she would never love him again.   
  
"You're droppin' chaff again, Hammer...just like you drop everything else..." she spat, her words filled with such bitterness and hatred that they tore into him like a blade through his heart.   
  
With that, she threw the paper at him and marched out of his office, throwing his door open so roughly that it banged against the outside wall.   
  
"Sarah...wait!" he ran to the doorway, holding a hand out to her, as though she might stop and turn back.   
  
She didn't.  
  
She quickly rounded the corner and disappeared into the elevator, gone it seemed, from his life. All that remained was the little piece of paper, floating gracefully to the ground and landing at his feet...an eternal reminder of the paradise he'd had but fleetingly that slipped through his grasp for the last time.  
  
"We're getting too good at saying goodbye...."   
  
  
THE END  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



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